


Just Is

by 50_points_for_ravenclaw



Series: Tumblr Prompts [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD Derek, Pack Bonding, Post-Nogitsune, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3770089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50_points_for_ravenclaw/pseuds/50_points_for_ravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>geoodlestuff said:</p><p>If you accept Sterek prompts, then: Derek, PTSD with nightmares and insomnia. Stiles, post-nogitsune trauma and insomnia. Hurt/comfort. Late night talks under the stars. Slow burn into a relationship, of which they don't even have to question. One night they just hold hands and maybe kiss; the following day at the pack meeting, maybe, they're curled together on the sofa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Is

Stiles is tired. So so tired. Yet his brain doesn’t seem to be able to compute that because he’s still lying here in his bed, staring at the ceiling at almost 4 o’clock in the morning. It’s been like this ever since they got rid of the nogitsune. It had taken a couple weeks after for him to not feel quite so ragged, to be able to stomach regular meals and drive back and forth between school and home. But…he still can’t sleep.

He lays in his bed for hours and hours every night but only manages a couple hours of sleep—if he’s lucky. There won’t be any nightmares—he knows that. The only reason he can come up with for this is that he’s just gotten used to it. It’s obvious that Scott notices something going on but he doesn’t say anything, probably taking Stiles’ quiet demeanor to be a more emotional problem. And sure, his emotions are all over the place. There’s no doubt about that. But it’s mostly that he just can’t freaking sleep.

With a long drawn out sigh, Stiles turns his head to stare out his window. He always leaves the blinds open now because the street lamp outside can serve as a nightlight. It’s easier than admitting that he can’t stand complete darkness anymore. Tonight, there’s extra milky light floating in to his room from an almost full moon, settled high above the tree line and surrounded with small shining stars. Objectively, the sight is pretty, relaxing, but it doesn’t really make him feel better.

Stiles bites his lip in deliberation for a moment before getting out of his bed with a sluggishness suggestive of exhaustion (no surprise there) and slips on a hoodie and a pair of old tennis shoes. With that, he’s grabbing his keys and heading downstairs. He leaves a short note so his dad doesn’t freak out if he wakes up before Stiles gets back and then he’s in his jeep, driving with the window down so the cool air of spring wafts in and tickles his skin. It’s not great but it’s better than his stifling bedroom.

Four weeks now since Scott bit the nogitsune and Kira ran it through with a sword. Four weeks since Allison was ran through with a sword, too. Four weeks since Aiden died in his brother’s arms and Ethan disappeared to who knows where. Four weeks since Isaac ran off with Chris to France without any plans of returning to the hell hole Beacon Hills has become.

It hasn’t been easy since Scott was bit but this is definitely the worst it’s ever been.

Stiles isn’t sure how many hours have passed by the time that he loops around town and ends up at the preserve. The sign that denotes it looks almost the same as it had just over a year and a half ago when he dragged Scott into the woods to find a dead body. It’s sort of ironic he thinks though he probably can’t explain why. Deciding that this must be what his subconscious was ultimately leading him to, he stumbles out of the jeep with his usual lack of grace, stuffing his keys into the pocket of his sweatpants, and sets off into the trees.

He doesn’t really know where he’s going—the forest is large and he hadn’t exactly mapped it out before, around all the times he’d been running for his life or someone else’s. Some parts look vaguely familiar and he’s almost positive he’s headed toward where Malia’s den had been. When he reaches a clearing though he pauses and then falls to the ground, ignoring the damp leaves underneath him and stretching out on his back to stare up into the circle of sky made clear by the break in trees. The moon is still big and bright, even when partly hidden by the silhouettes of spindly branches. The stars still twinkle and the sky is still a midnight blue, almost black color. Stiles thinks maybe he could fall asleep here with nothing but the sound of leaves rustling lightly in the breeze and late night crickets to lull him. But even as he’s spread out on the ground, sleep evades him and his mind continues to buzz.

Scott would probably kill him if he knew Stiles is sitting around in the middle of the woods at night, though maybe not before his dad. Strangely enough he isn’t scared. Maybe he’s gone numb after everything. Maybe the nogitsune finally broke something inside him that can’t be fixed and he’s doomed to live in an exhausted and emotionless state for the rest of his life.

The next thing Stiles knows, he’s be woken by the sound of footsteps and sunlight is filtering through the trees. He blinks against the light and then hesitantly looks around, spotting a figure heading quickly toward him from almost the same direction in which he’d arrived the night before. He starts to scramble to his feet, heart beginning to pound until he realizes that the figure is Derek and that the man is stopping just a few feet away, watching Stiles stand with a weary expression.

“Stiles…” he says slowly.

“Yeah…uh it’s me,” Stiles mumbles. He isn’t stupid. He knows why this looks weird, after everything that happened. Derek needs to be sure that he’s himself. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I went for a drive and ended up here.” Stiles shrugs like it’s no big deal but can’t hold back the slight shiver he gets from the morning breeze brushing against his damp with dew clothes.

“You shouldn’t be out here at night,” Derek says.

Stiles scrunches his face. “I mean could there be anything worse than an evil Japanese fox spirit?” Stiles says with an attempt at humor but it falls flat.

Derek frowns at that before gesturing back behind him with a nod of his head, letting Stiles catch up to him before they start their trek back through the woods. Stiles stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets, flexing his fists repeatedly in order to try and warm his fingers up but nothing he does now ever seems to help.

“Why can’t you sleep?” Derek asks. “Are you still having nightmares?”

Stiles shakes his head, eyes directed at the ground beneath him. “No. I just can’t fall asleep. Used to being awake all the time I guess.”

He stumbles across a root sticking up from the ground and Derek moves to help but thinks better of it as Stiles rebalances himself and pulls away. The younger man is honestly unsure how to feel about Derek’s presence. Sure, they’d helped each other in the past, even saved each other’s lives, but never quite like this.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Stiles questions, something to fill the silence though he actually is curious.

“I was going on a run,” Derek answers. It’s now that Stiles notices Derek’s loose t-shirt and…basketball shorts? He didn’t think the man even owned anything other than jeans.

“Early riser,” Stiles mumbles. It’s obvious by the still orange sky that it’s just passing dawn and verging on actual daytime.

Luckily, they reach Stiles’ jeep before the silence between them can grow anymore uncomfortable and Stiles nods at Derek uncertainly before opening the driver’s door.

“Thanks for uh…walking me back,” he says quietly.

Derek shrugs in response but doesn’t otherwise move so Stiles tries to ignore the feeling of his gaze as he gets into the jeep and drives off.

~*~*~*~

It keeps happening. At least four times over the next week, Stiles gets up and leaves the house at an ungodly hour of the night and drives around town before ending up at the Preserve. He goes to the same clearing, lays down on the damp ground, eventually dozes off, and wakes up to Derek’s neutral frown. Derek chastises him every time, telling him that it isn’t safe to wander around in the woods in the dark, especially around the full moon even though they both know the only werewolves left in town are him and Scott. And then after, Stiles showers off the smell of the trees and Derek before heading to school to pretend that nothing is wrong. Not like he’s fooling anyone.

It’s a Saturday night the next time he finds himself out there—well technically Sunday morning—and he’s hiking straight toward that same clearing. Only when he gets there, someone is already spread out on the leaves, hands behind their head as they stare up at the sky. Stiles stops just on the edge of the tree line and ducks back into the shadows but the person snorts and turns toward him.

“It’s just me,” they—Derek says.

Stiles hesitates and then steps forward, watching Derek curiously as he ambles over and lies down next to him, leaving enough space between them so that they won’t accidentally brush against each other. It’s reminiscent of when they were both paralyzed by the kanima and stuck lying on the floor of the Sheriff Station and he almost laughs at the image but manages to hold it in with pursed lips while avoiding eye contact with the man in question resting right beside him.

Instead he asks, “What are you doing out here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Derek answers simply.

Stiles frowns at that but doesn’t ask him to elaborate so they fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence, blinking up at the stars and getting lost in thought.

“I don’t dream anymore,” Stiles blurts after a while, not really sure why he says it but feeling a need to say _something_. Derek stays silent though so he goes on. “At least not that I can remember. Sometimes I think it might be worse than the nightmares…not dreaming at all. But I guess that’s not really true.”

“Trust me,” Derek says. “The nightmares are worse.”

Stiles turns his head enough to see Derek’s profile and frowns at the resignation there. It’s obvious he’s speaking from personal experience, something Stiles has seen him do maybe once in the time they’ve known each other, but it’s unclear what he means by the declaration. Is it meant to just comfort Stiles or is he actually trying to say something?

“Do you—uh…do you have nightmares?” Stiles mutters, averting his gaze again.

“Doesn’t everyone,” Derek says with a sigh.

Stiles pouts at the non-answer but can’t refute it so he doesn’t say anything in return. After a moment, Derek sighs again.

“I get nightmares about the fire,” he says quietly and Stiles holds his breath. “And about Peter, Kate, Laura, Jennifer…Paige.” Stiles doesn’t admit that he knows who that is but thinks Derek must already have figured it out if he’s mentioning her. “There are a lot of things to have nightmares about.”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes. He’d never really thought about all of the things that had happened to Derek. How everything kept piling up, getting worse and worse. He can’t imagine how someone would begin to deal with it all.

“Yeah,” Derek agrees, jaw clenched.

“You know,” Stiles hazards to say, “if you ever…need someone to, I don’t know, talk to? You could always talk to…me?”

“Is that a question or a statement?” Derek asks with amusement, glancing over at him.

“It’s a proposal,” Stiles says with more conviction.

Derek nods, peering over him again, and Stiles could swear he sees the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips, as if he were about to smile. The sight is enough for him to bite back a grin though he doesn’t try very hard. He’s just glad that the rest of the night is peaceful and comfortable between them after such an awkward conversation, even if he does wake up with a face full of dirt and Derek smirking down at him looking as perfect as always.

~*~*~*~

Scott starts calling ‘pack meetings’ with everyone just a few weeks later, two months after ‘The Big Showdown’. Stiles, Kira, Lydia, the Sheriff, and Malia (after some coercion) all go to the McCall household to talk about…stuff. Stiles isn’t really positive what the purpose of the whole thing is but it seems to make Scott feel better so he goes anyway. Besides, it’s sort of…nice.

After two meetings and two more weeks of late night…dozing in the middle of the woods with Derek, Stiles proposes that they ask the grumpy werewolf to come to the meetings, too. After all, he’s been involved with everything since the beginning and was alone now. Scott wrinkled his nose at the suggestion before seeming to realize that Stiles is being serious and his expression softens as he nods with a smile. Stiles tells the alpha to leave the invite to him.

That night, he walks into the clearing with a little more pep in his step, a relaxed smile on his face and his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his hoodie. He’s actually found a little something to look forward to when the sun goes down now and his reasoning for wandering the woods in the dark have shifted from insomnia to actually wanting to be around Derek, something he never would have thought to be the case.

“Hey,” he greets as he sits down next to where Derek is already lying. The werewolf grunts in acknowledgement, like always and Stiles bites his lips to keep from smiling like too much of any idiot, a problem he’s been noticing getting worse and worse.

“So, uh,” he says, scratching the back of neck. “I wanted to ask you something.” Derek turns and looks at him to show he’s listening and Stiles fumbles with his words for a moment. “See, uh, Scott has these—he’s been having these pack meetings. Every week. And he thought, well we thought, that you might want to come?”

Derek raises a brow, smirking with amusement as he looks back to the sky. “When’s the next one?”

“Friday,” Stiles answers quickly. “Right after school…which you don’t go to so around 4.”

Derek huffs quietly, almost a chuckle, before shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “If Scott’s okay with it,” he says.

“Of course Scott’s okay with it!” Stiles exclaims then winces at his enthusiasm. “But cool. I’ll let him know. Uh it’s at his place.”

“You can do it at the loft if you want,” Derek proposes lightly. “More room.”

Stiles stares at him for a minute. He jerks his arms around and then nods a little more tamely with a small smile. “That’d be great, dude. Thanks. Maybe next time.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek says automatically and Stiles rolls his eyes. It’s become an old argument of theirs.

Just a couple days later, Stiles follows Scott and Kira on his bike back to the alpha’s place, Malia messing with the radio in the jeep the entire time while Lydia drives behind him. It’s just turning 3:45pm so they take a while to relax when they go inside, pilfering around the kitchen for snacks and drinks and thanking Melissa airily for letting them do so.

“My dad got called in for a B&E earlier so he can’t make it tonight,” Stiles informs Scott who nods in understanding.

They turn on the TV for background noise as they settle down in the living and just when Lydia is pulling out the bestiary they’d been working on making from her book bag, the doorbell rings. Stiles stands before anyone else and stumbles to the front door, whipping it open with an over-exaggerated flourish to Derek’s utter amusement with a breathless, “hi!”

“It’s 4,” Derek says instead of a greeting and Stiles rolls his eyes, stepping aside to let him in.

Everyone watches him curiously when he comes into the living room but Lydia is quick to update him on what they’ve been doing. They all relax once he starts talking quietly with her, looming over the bestiary together while he tells her things to add in. Scott sits next to Malia to talk about the next full moon while Kira grabs Stiles in order to teach him the ways of self-defense. He listens half-heartedly, keeping an eye on Derek and the way he seems to fit in so well the entire meeting, unable to help the small smile that permanently pulls at his lips.

Overall, the meeting is actually quite successful—Stiles even manages to convince Derek to stay a little longer and watch a movie with the rest of them—so he’s feeling pretty content when he goes home.

Stiles goes to the woods later that night, even though he feels like he could maybe actually fall asleep for once, and finds Derek just like every other time, lying on the ground. Only this time, the werewolf is sleeping when Stiles sits crisscrossed next to him so he makes an effort to quietly lie down too and closes his eyes so as not to wake him. It’s a nice change from what they usually do, especially since Stiles falls asleep almost instantly.

The peace doesn’t last long however because Stiles is woken by a pained groan from next to him. At first, he doesn’t know what’s happening or why he woke up but then he feels jerky movement in the leaves to his left and opens his eyes, waking up quickly. Derek is still asleep beside him but he’s arching off the ground, expression twisted into a distressed scowl while he clutches at strips of grass with clawed fingers. Stiles scrambles back to avoid being scratched until he hears Derek growl as if he’s just been punched in the stomach.

“Derek,” he breathes, slowly reaching a hand out. The older man doesn’t respond, just pants and twists on the ground, kicking out his feet. “Derek!” Stiles says louder but still no response.

Taking a deep breathe, he lunges forward and falls practically on top of the other man, holding his shoulders down best he can. “Derek!” he shouts again and the werewolf falls still.

After a moment, his entire body slumps and his eyes flash open wildly, flicking around him like he’s searching for some kind of threat. Stiles doesn’t realize that he’s almost straddling him until Derek’s eyes fall on him and he swallows nervously.

“It was just a nightmare,” he says softly as Derek gazes up at him with confusion. “You were just having a nightmare.”

Derek nods in understanding, breathing heavily through his nose and Stiles takes the opportunity to pull away, letting out a deep sigh as he falls back onto the ground. He stays close to Derek, knowing he probably needs what little comfort he can get after this.

“What happened?” Stiles asks quietly. He sees Derek’s jaw clench, the way his gaze remains resolutely locked on the trees in front of him as he sits up and Stiles prepares himself for silence.

“I was dreaming about the fire,” Derek says so faintly, he almost misses it.

Stiles is frozen in shock for a moment but quickly gathers himself and stares up at Derek from beneath his eyelashes, hoping to look like he isn’t prodding when he says, “I thought you weren’t there?”

Derek shakes his head. “I wasn’t.” He tightens his hold on the grass on either side of him. “I still dream about it. What it probably looked like. How it probably felt from the inside. Kate standing outside and watching while the entire house caught fire.” He shuts his eyes tightly and Stiles licks his lips nervously before reaching out and settling a gentle hand on his arm. “I always see them. My family. But I can never do anything to save them.”

“There wasn’t anything you could do,” Stiles affirms fervently.

“I could have said no to Kate,” Derek argues, glaring at his lap.

“You couldn’t have known,” Stiles says. “You shouldn’t blame yourself because it wasn’t your fault. It was all Kate.”

Derek shakes his head, laughing humorlessly but doesn’t fight him. He doesn’t even seem to register Stiles’ hand on his arm because if he did, Stiles has a feeling he would shake it off. Instead, he curls up, looping his arms around his folded legs loosely and resting his chin on top of his knees.

“I know what it’s like to blame yourself for something you couldn’t control,” Stiles mutters, taking his hand away to drop it in his lap. “Everyone tells you it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t do anything to stop it. But it doesn’t make you feel any better. I guess I should have known it wouldn’t make _you_ feel any better either.”

Derek looks over at him, his gaze searching as it roams over Stiles’ stiff form. He doesn’t say anything in return though he seems to understand because his expression has relaxed a bit and he gives the teen a nod. It’s probably the closest he’ll ever get to admitting Stiles is right. Yet, Stiles doesn’t feel as smug as he normally would.

He doesn’t remember falling back asleep but he wakes up the next morning in his bed. At first, he looks around in complete confusion before realizing Derek must have carried him there. The stupid werewolf had carried him to his car, drove him home, and then carried him up the stairs to his room, all without waking him up. Stiles huffs a disbelieving laugh, falling back against his bed while he shakes his head in amazement.

Sliding out of bed, he goes to the window and sees his jeep parked outside, where it’s always parked, with his dad’s cruiser right next to it. A smile twitches at his lips until he’s grinning wide and uncontained. A woman walking her dog glances up and spots him, giving him a weird look before speeding up. Stiles doesn’t care though. He’s stupidly happy because maybe Derek really does care after all.

~*~*~*~

“Have you ever had a threesome?”

Derek raises an eyebrow so impossibly high, Stiles is surprised it doesn’t join his hairline. They’re out in the clearing again, Derek sitting with his legs stretched in front of him and leaning back against his palms. Stiles doesn’t really think about it as he swings his legs into the other man’s lap and lies down on the ground, tearing at a piece of grass in order to try and focus on anything but the intense blush that’s beginning to creep up his neck. He can’t be blamed for where his thoughts take him.

“I mean I’ve always kind of wondered how it would work, you know?” he continues. “But I guess then it depends if it’s two guys or two girls…or _three_ guys or _three_ girls. Huh…” He furrows his brow for a moment before shaking the thought away. “But I haven’t even had a twosome so I guess I shouldn’t really worry about that. I mean that’s getting a little ahead of myself, right?”

“No,” Derek says and Stiles chokes a little on his next words.

“Wha—what?” he stutters.

“No. I’ve never had a threesome,” Derek says with a smirk and a sideways glance. “I don’t have much experience with that either.”

Stiles sputters for a moment, trying to find a sign that the other man is lying but seeing none. “You? Seriously?”

“Am I supposed to?” Derek asks with another raised eyebrow.

“Well, I mean I guess not but I just figured that…you know,” Stiles mumbles, gesturing to Derek’s entire form with a helpless shrug.

“I never had much interest in it,” Derek says, growing a little more solemn. “My first time wasn’t exactly ideal.”

Stiles clamps his mouth shut, wincing a little and mentally berating himself for even bringing up the topic in the first place. “Right,” he breathes, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Laura tried to get me to go on dates in New York once we settled down some,” Derek says, “but it was always more her thing. She understood but I think she just wanted to help.” He shrugs as if what he just said wasn’t the most personal thing he’s ever shared with Stiles so the teen doesn’t comment on it. He simply makes a noncommittal noise.

“Dates are overrated anyways,” he says eventually. “Not that I would know…but I’ve never really liked the idea of them. It’s just spending an entire night with someone you barely know, trying to make awkward conversation, and hoping you don’t spill something on them.”

“Them?” Derek comments.

“Yeah,” Stiles says with a frown of confusion.

“Not she?”

“Oh you caught that, huh?” Stiles laughs awkwardly, throwing his arm over his eyes so he doesn’t have to see whatever expression is on Derek’s face. “Yeah…them.”

“Okay.”

The corners of his lips twitch up into a smile and he doesn’t even bother trying to reign it in. Weirdly enough, Derek is the first person he’s told, though he’s almost positive Scott has figured out his inclination toward equal opportunities, and it feels nice to get it out there. To finally say it out loud. And to have someone he…cares about respond to it so flippantly, like it doesn’t change anything.

“Me too,” Derek adds and Stiles is willing to ignore the way his heart seems to skip a beat if Derek is.

~*~*~*~

Months pass. Nothing changes. They start having pack meetings in the loft where there’s room enough for Kira to actually show Stiles and Lydia some moves and Derek to give Scott and Malia pointers on control. Melissa and the Sheriff only come sometimes because, unlike everyone else as they so love to complain, they have jobs. It’s all very domestic. Scott always goes straight for the pantry to grab a bag of chips when he comes in (Derek starts buying Lays potato chips because they’re the alpha’s favorite) and Lydia spreads out a few DVDs from her vast collection on the coffee table Derek bought just a few weeks before, _The Notebook_ always being amongst them but never chosen.

Stiles never really mentions to anyone the fact that he and Derek still meet up sometimes in the woods late at night when they can’t sleep and neither can Derek. They get into the habit of texting the other to see if they’re awake and almost every time that’s just the case.

They spend an entire night awake and talking in their clearing. It’s a full moon so Derek has excess energy and passes a lot of the time pacing while Stiles watches and babbles at him as a way to hopefully distract him. As a result, Stiles ends up going to school with zero sleep under his belt and almost falls asleep in Mr. Yukimura’s history class. He doesn’t think it’s a very big deal since it’s the end of the year and they’re just reviewing what they’ve already learned but Kira’s dad doesn’t seem to appreciate it all that much, even though he gives Stiles a concerned look while he reprimands him. When he gets home, Stiles stays awake by cooking for his dad and playing some video games but eventually passes out around 9pm.

He’s woken some hours later by the sound of his window sliding open. He doesn’t think anything of it until he realizes exactly what that means and he shoots up in bed only to have a hand come over his mouth and an arm wrap around his chest.

“Shh,” Derek says quietly into his ear. “It’s just me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

When he lets go, Stiles falls back to his bed with an aggravated huff, flopping onto his back to glare up at the older man. “What the hell are you doing?”

Derek actually looks unsure at the question, fidgeting where he stands and Stiles has never seen the man lack so much confidence before. He’s suddenly worried and leaning up to get a better look.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” he whispers fiercely but Derek shakes his head. “What’s wrong?”

“I had…” Derek sighs heavily, settling his gaze on the floor. “I had a bad nightmare and I just…”

“Couldn’t sleep?” Stiles asks.

Derek shrugs as if the suggestion is acceptable but not exactly what he wanted say. Stiles doesn’t pry though, only sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he gestures for the werewolf to stay put while he grabs some socks and his jacket.

“We don’t have to go to the Preserve,” Derek says, softly.

“We’re not,” Stiles says.

He grabs Derek’s hand without really thinking about it but the older man doesn’t stop him so Stiles pulls him out of his room with a finger up to his lips. They carefully descend the stairs and unlock the front door, closing the door gently behind them as they step outside.

“We don’t have to whisper so much out here,” Stiles explains, leaning back against the wall. “So, what happened?”

“Like I said—just a nightmare,” Derek says with a small sigh, mirroring Stiles’ position.

“Okay,” Stiles drawls. “About what?”

Derek doesn’t answer, just stares at the house across the street with a blank scowl. Stiles almost shoves him in annoyance but refrains on the grounds that it wouldn’t do anything to convince Derek to talk. Instead, he scoots closer until his arm is pressed against the other man’s. Even through the double layer of jacket sleeves on their arms, he can feel the warmth seep through from Derek’s skin.

“So if you don’t want to talk about it, why did you come here?” Stiles asks quietly.

Derek breathes in heavily, eyes darting to Stiles and back. Still he stays silent.

“Okay,” Stiles breathes. “Okay.”

He worms his hand around Derek’s wrist, giving him plenty of time to pull away. When he doesn’t, Stiles slides his fingers between the werewolf’s until they’re interlocked loosely. Surprisingly, Derek seems to relax at that, leaning more heavily against the wall and closing his eyes as he grips Stiles’ hand more tightly.

“I wanted to—” he cuts off with a huff of frustration. “Being around you…it’s easier. It doesn’t feel so overwhelming.”

Stiles swallows heavily but nods, letting himself fall a little more into Derek’s side until his head falls on his shoulder.

“I think I know what you mean,” Stiles whispers and Derek grunts in acknowledgment.

They don’t speak after that but it’s not awkward. The longer they stand there, leaning on one another both literally and figuratively, the more Derek relaxes until Stiles can feel the tension completely leach out of his shoulders. They’ve never been this close voluntarily—not to comfort or show emotion. But it doesn’t feel strange or out of place. It feels right.

They don’t mention that night afterward but Stiles notices a difference in their relationship. While Derek isn’t suddenly happy and cuddly, he doesn’t hold back from touching Stiles now. At pack meetings, he’ll lay a hand on Stile’s shoulder when he leans over his should to see something the teen is explaining. He grips Stiles’ arms to position them when he starts teaching him how to block attacks. He sits close to Stiles on the couch when they watch movies, lets his arm press against him comfortably as a pillar of warmth. And they still meet at night—though now, when they spread out on the ground, they lay side by side and Derek will reach out to intertwine his fingers with Stiles’.

On a night like this, Derek is lying on the ground like usual, gazing up at the stars, with one arm bent behind his head and the other stretched out next to him to hold Stiles’ hand. Stiles is sitting crisscrossed, close enough that his knees tough Derek’s side. Their conversation has come to a stand still while they both take the time to get lost in thought and enjoy the way the night air is slowly beginning to get warmer and warmer with the approach of summer.

It’s getting close to the full moon so there’s plenty of light coming down into the clearing, giving a hazy bluish radiance to the ground around them. Derek’s pale eyes seem to almost glow from it, looking more silver than Stiles has ever seen them. And he’s spent a lot of time trying to figure out what color the werewolf’s eyes really are.

Derek notices him staring and turns to gaze back with an inquisitively raised eyebrow. Stiles purses his lips to try and hide a small, not very successfully, but he doesn’t look away, watching unabashedly as Derek’s expression softens into a fond frown of confusion. Before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea, Stiles leans down and kisses him.

He kisses so softly that Derek doesn’t really have a chance to return it, though he tries anyway. When Stiles pulls away just enough to hover over Derek, their breathes intermingling, they both grin slowly at each other, fingers tightening where they’re still clinging to each other. Stiles laughs a little breathlessly. He shifts enough that he can lie down next to Derek on his side, supporting himself on one elbow while he rests their joined hands on Derek’s chest, his eyes glued to the way they fit together so simply and so perfectly.

It isn’t weird. It isn’t wrong. It just is.

~*~*~*~

The next day, when Stiles falls asleep half way through _We Bought A Zoo_ (surprisingly enough, Malia’s choice) during the pack meeting, no one bats an eye at the way he’s curled up against Derek or how the older man tugs him closer and rests his chin atop the younger man’s head. Scott smiles softly from where he’s snuggled up with Kira, even though his eyes don’t leave the screen. It’s enough to make Derek smile, too.

**Author's Note:**

> So many emotions!! This went longer than planned but I'm happy with it so who cares right?
> 
> Send me prompts at my Tumblr: http://50-points-for-ravenclaw.tumblr.com


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